“Sure, we could always use another Golden, since you brunettes have joined the fold. Just don’t expect us to start setting her up on dates or anything. We don’t match make; we facilitate.”
Facilitate my ass. These women are so devious and naughty I can’t help but wonder what kind of business they’d do if they ever put their minds to selling the goods.
“Here’s to getting your man and eating him too!” Brit yells, toasting me with her half empty water glass.
I highly doubt that’ll happen, but I keep my mouth shut and play along. If nothing else, I’m enjoying the hell out of having five lunatics as my best buds as I do my best to just hang on for the ride and pray I don’t come out of this with a banged up heart.
Chapter Twenty One
Luc
Something is most definitely wrong. Very wrong.
“Is it just me, or is Ash being really weird lately?” Ben whispers to me across the kitchen table as we finish off his homework while my wife skips around the place humming and cooking up a storm.
It’s not just me then, I think, as the lad leans closer and eyes our girl like she’s a snake about to strike.
“She baked cookies for my class yesterday and even let me eat some for breakfast. I think she’s losing her marbles.”
I can’t disagree as she pauses and throws us a bright smile before going back to her potion pot.
She’s been so sweet and attentive since she went to another lunch with Cammy that I’m frankly afraid of what she’ll do next. I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve actually been hiding in my study most nights just to give my poor dick a break from her insatiable arse.
I’m exhausted, and annoyed that it can even be so, but I’m a little afraid of what she’ll do next if I don’t get a handle on her and slow her down a bit.
I can handle her hurt feelings—most days—and even come out of one of her tempers with only a scratch or two. It’s this enigma of cheer and sexual voracity that’s got me running for the hills.
Her behavior has me and Benjamin walking around on bleeding eggshells whenever she’s in the vicinity, and I actually miss her scathing sarcasm and those death stares she used to direct my way on a regular basis.
Not to mention the fact that her eyes are suspiciously devoid of anything remotely resembling emotion when she turns that robotic smile my way.
Dammit, what happened to the adoration I’d seen in her eyes just a week ago? Where are her uncertain looks and that stuttering blush every time I catch her looking my way?
“What are we gonna do, Luc? I think she’s gone nuts,” Benjamin whispers when Ash places the food on the table with the promise of dessert if we want.
It’s Wednesday. We only have dessert on Fridays and Sundays.
“I don’t know, old chap, but we’d bloody well better do something,” I mutter, giving her a strained smile when she comes back to the table and takes her own seat.
“Ashley?” I begin, gaining a small measure of confidence from Benjamin’s subtle nod. “Are you feeling quite all right, love?”
She smiles, her eyes distant and calm, and starts eating the Irish stew she’s made.
“Uh-huh. I’m just fine, Lucian.”
“Erm…are you sure, love? You seem to be…”
“You’re being weird, Ash. Like, really weird. Yesterday you said I could swim by myself after snack time. You never let me swim alone. Ever. And you’ve been humming and doing weird stuff that you called frou…something, I can’t remember what you said, but you laughed your ass—”
“Language, lad.”
“Your butt off when Randy did that stuff and called her a loser.”
“Yeah,” I agree, nodding my head thoughtfully. “And you haven’t once threatened to kill us if we mess with the remote when you’re recording your shows.”
“I don’t know what to tell you guys,” she says with a shrug, continuing to eat her dinner while we sit and stare. “I just don’t want to moan about everything. At least not things that are minor, anyway. I’ve decided to just chill out and see where things take me, ya know? No harm in keeping things simple.”
That simple statement sends chills down my spine for some reason. I just don’t know why.
“Now eat your food and prepare to be super wowed by the brownies I baked earlier.”
Benjamin and I share another fearful look before we dig in to the scrumptious feast and pretend not to be completely unsettled by the pod person chatting up a storm around us.
Something is most definitely wrong with my woman; I just can’t quite understand what the hell it is.
***
Ash
“I can’t go to another bake sale or mommy conference. I swear I’ll start leaking brain fluid if I have to listen to another conversation about the merits of baking powder versus fucking baking soda. Please tell me why you’re trying to torture me,” I whine into the phone as I stand on the steps outside and wave to my two men as they leave for the day.
My cheeks are so buff from smiling I’m scared to stop in case my whole face falls flat and starts oozing down my neck in a bid for freedom.
“Because we want to unsettle your man before giving him the double whammy of ‘oh my God, my woman is perfection personified’.”
“Yeah, he needs to see what the milk makes before he divvies up for the cow.”
“Why did I agree to a conference call at eight in the morning?” I ask again, letting my shoulders ease the moment the car is out of sight.
“Because you’re a giver?” Viv asks, chuckling at my disheartened growl. “Okay, okay, stop your belly aching, woman. You can stop the Martha Stewart act now. I bet you’ve got him hopping to keep up with your sudden about face.”
“Yeah,” I snort, giggling as I hit the kitchen and grab another cup of much needed coffee. “He actually hid away in his study last night, waiting for me to fall asleep. He almost had a heart attack when I popped out of the bathroom as soon as he snuck into the room. I almost wet my pants at the horror on his face.”
“I’ll bet. Did you wear those jammies we gave you?”
“No! Stop talking about this right now, or I’m hanging up the phone,” Cammy groans, sensing another sex talk in the making.
I’m a little relieved at her yelling when it stops the conversation and we move on to other topics. How am I supposed to admit that I’d taken pity on the poor man and all but tucked him in when I’d seen the dark circles beneath his eyes?
My own vagina had also needed some much deserved rest, so I’d fallen into bed and gone straight to sleep, a satisfied smile rimming my lips.
“So can I stop being a Stepford wife now? Please? I’m in the middle of this great romance book that I’ve been putting off since I started baking for the entire state. And I’m tired of being nice all the time. It’s not my style.”
“Yeah, we know,” they say in unison, their sniggers making me breathe deeply just to prove them wrong.
“Okay, Ash, you can stop being nice and go back to your normal crabby self. Just remember the rules. No feelingsy talk with your guy, and be as accommodating as possible whenever he’s around.”
I can do that. I like being free to jump him whenever I want, without the pressure they’ve been putting on me lately. Plus I’d really like for Ben to stop locking his door at night.
I think he’s a little afraid of me since I did my three-sixty personality turn and really don’t like seeing him scuttle around me or jump whenever I enter a room.
“I gotta go, bitches, early court date.”
“See ya.”
“See ya.”
“See ya.”
At the end I’m left with Cammy and her familiar questions about the past that Luc and I share. I haven’t said anything up to this point because I haven’t wanted to ruin things with the feelings that memories bring, but I know she won’t stop till she gets what she wants. Her obsession with Brody has proven that, so I buckle a little and give her a little taste.
&n
bsp; “When he came over here on that exchange program, we had a…thing. We sorta fell for each other.”
Oh, and what a blissful fall that had been. I can still remember his eyes and the quick smiles he’d had for me. And the way we’d kissed, as if we were starved for each other…hot, hot, hot, even seven years later.
“Oookay. So then why the coldness when you met again?”
This is the hard part, the part that shames me and makes me so livid I can’t stand to breathe when I remember.
“He saw me talking to an ex. Chris’s mom and dad had been going through a divorce and he needed a shoulder to lean on. Lucian went nuts when he saw me hugging him, and, well…Chris might have gotten the wrong idea about things, but—”
“Love! Where are you?”
“Oh, crap. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
Disconnecting the call, I shuffle out of the kitchen just as he’s coming my way, my coffee forgotten the minute I see his face and the spellbinding smile he’s wearing.
“You just left.”
“And now I’m back,” he purrs, grabbing my left hand to slide something onto my finger.
“You got it back!” I whisper, all teary-eyed and soft when my ring slides into place and winks back up at me like it’s come back home or something.
I can’t believe I’ve missed the old boulder so much, but I know I do when I get all choked up about it.
“Yes. Frank found it in a pawn shop in Austin. That’s in Texas,” he clarifies, and I roll my eyes at him.
“I know where Austin is, douchebag. I’m not brainless,” I grouch, checking my ring for scratches and chips.
Seems almost as perfect as I remember, so I give up my thoughts of finding Wesley to cut his ass to ribbons.
My words, instead of offending him, make him pause before a huge grin appears, and I find myself pulled up and into his broad chest, my breasts and everything below mashed into his hard body.
“What did you just say?”
“I know where Austin is?” I breathe, losing focus as my eyes catch sight of his lush lips and the tongue I want licking my lips.
“The other part, love,” he murmurs, bringing me so close I feel our breaths mingle.
“I’m not brainless?”
“Try again.”
I want to giggle as I say the next words when I realize what he’s looking for.
“Douchebag.”
“Ah, that’s the one, love.” He chuckles before shoving a hand through my hair to pull me in to his mouth.
The kiss he gives me is an inferno of passion and so intense I feel moisture slide between my legs without any extra stimulation but that of his mouth devouring mine.
I’m so hot and ready by the time he pulls his mouth back that I’m willing to beg him to stay instead of going back to work.
“Are you okay now, love? No more strange behavior and trying to sex the life out of me?”
I blush when he grins and pushes himself closer, taking the sting of his words away by showing me how much he wants me.
“Fine, but don’t complain when you don’t like what I’m saying,” I warn, reaching up to plant a lingering kiss on the sensitive skin beneath his ear.
The action sends shivers through him and I push closer, wanting more than the meeting of our mouths.
Lucky for me, he pushes back and sets me away with a groan, because no matter how resolved I think I am, I’m feeling so much right now I can’t be sure I won’t do or say anything to give my feelings away.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have to go,” he mutters, kissing me once, hard, before turning on his heel and striding out the door.
“Love? Wear the black tonight, would you!”
And then he’s gone. Leaving me grinning and more than a little relieved for this reprieve. I need to get myself in line before he comes home, and I need to do it fast.
It’s only when I’m pouring myself a fresh cup of coffee that I realize I never asked how they’d found the ring or what, if they’d found Wesley too, they had done with him.
I guess I must not care as much as I would have in my previous life. That makes me happy, and a little sad, because while I’d been enraged and disappointed in him, I never thought I’d get to the point that my own…father…would mean less than nothing to me.
Chapter Twenty Two
Luc
“What the fuck do you mean? He’s not a sodding ghost, Ivan!”
“Aye, boy, but this damned country is so big and full of Americans I canna get a lead on the bloke. I picked his trail up in Texas for ya, and that’s as far as he got before he disappeared. He’s got a couple thousand in his pocket and is close enough to the border that I canna but guess he’s going south, if he hasna already.”
I blow out a hard breath and lean back in my chair, replaying this morning in a loop that makes me want to grin and shout with joy. I have my love back, well, in part at least, but I have no doubt that she’ll be back to her old self and loving me in no time.
I’m actually anticipating it at the moment. I’ve waited seven years for this moment, and despite my earlier misstep, I have not a worry in the world as far as that’s concerned.
I am by no means a cruel man, but I need her love the way I’d needed my first million: with a desperation that leaves me sweating and filled with hopeful anticipation.
Now, don’t mistake me: I have no intention of ever feeling those things, not ever again, but I’m a man, and I need to have that security of knowing my woman is emotionally dependent upon me.
“Are ya gonna answer the bloody question then, lad?” Ivan demands, bringing me back to the present.
“What?”
“Are ya afeared the man will go after the lass again?”
“No. He only took her to scare us, nothing more. He’ll stay away from her and the lad from now on, since he’s a bleeding coward. No, my need to find him has nothing to do with the safety of my family.”
Ivan nods and grins, stroking a hand through his bright orange beard. I don’t understand why the Scot has always grown the monstrosity that thick, not with that bright tinge making him look like he’s been having a go at a bloody pumpkin patch.
“Ya plan to return the favor, do ya? Good lad. Now then, I think I’ll get back to work looking for that piece of rubbish,” he mutters, heaving himself to his feet.
Ivan McDonnell may not be buff or young, but the man has the nose of a blood hound, and I know I can count on him to get this job done.
Like I said, I’m not worried about that bastard coming near my family again, but I will not let this rest till I’ve taken a decent strip off his hide in payment for the hurt he caused my love.
“Call me when you have something.”
“Aye.”
As soon as I’m alone I dial Frank and get my mid-morning update on my girl, half groaning when he informs me she’s eating lunch with her newest friends, a set of women I have no personal objection to but have the feeling might be more of a bad influence than I’d like.
“What are they doing then?”
“They’re—ahem —they’re looking at some stuff,” he says uncomfortably, clearing his throat a few times.
“Just spit it out, man,” I mutter, though I have a rather good idea of what they’re doing to make my unflappable security captain so uncomfortable.
“Intimate paraphernalia.”
Aaah.
“Sex toys? Does she look even halfway interested?” I ask, wondering if she’d be into that sort of thing.
I have no objection to people using these things, mind you, I just have never had the need to sublimate my performance with aids. The thought of Ash thinking we need these things makes me a bit green, and a lot bloody annoyed, if you want the truth.
“Naw, she’s giving the big purple thing the evil eye, and I think I heard her say it’d be a cold day in hell and that you sure didn’t need it. Jesus, half those things look like they’d hurt, not add to the, ahem, pleasure.”
I almost crow with pride at that and spend the next two minutes torturing Frank by asking a few rather uncomfortable questions just to get a rise out of him.
“They’re done looking, and now they’re going into some sorta huddle. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but from the looks of things those girls are going intense about something.”
“I’ll bet. They’re friends of Cammy’s, so the whole lot of them are probably barmy loons.”
“Yeah, well, these ‘barmy loons’ are the hottest bunch of gals I’ve ever laid eyes on, that’s for sure. At least they seem to be having a good time. Want me to stay on Mrs Jasper?”
“No. Let her have her fun. You can collect Benjamin from school and take him on to his football practice.”
“Soccer.”
“Football,” I say before hanging up to dial my love’s number.
“Good afternoon, love. What are you up to?” I purr, letting her hear the smile in my voice.
“Uh, I’m having lunch?”
I want to laugh at the way she phrases things when she’s trying not to lie. That’s how I’ve always known she’s telling the truth. If Ash tells you straight you know it’s the honest answer; if she phrases her answers as questions, she’s trying to fudge or lie by omission.
She’d once told me that that way she’s not lying, just planting a suggestion and letting people believe what they want.
“Oh yes? And what have you been talking about?”
She splutters something, and I hear a round of high-pitched, feminine laughter before she wheezes and throws a few choice curses at her friends.
“Uh, we were looking at these, um, sex toys that Brit is writing web content for,” she admits, making my eyes narrow and my smile fade.
I know my love, and if she’s willingly telling me about something I know mortifies her, I’d willingly bet one of my companies that whatever they’ve been discussing is not something she wants me to know.
That just makes me all the more curious, desperately curious, to weed out all her secrets. I sigh instead and drop it for now, forming my strategy even as we speak.
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